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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28348113">An End to a World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlyembers/pseuds/ghostlyembers'>ghostlyembers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dadza, Death, F to Wil, Fluff and Hurt Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Family, I write in detail a lot so, Insanebur, Its aight, Major character death - Freeform, Mostly hurt, Nov. 16th, OH bewarn! heavy gore written, Pogtopia Wilbur, Sleepy Boys Inc. - Freeform, Stab Wound, Techno's a lil bit off the shits, Twins Techno and Wilbur, Wilbur Soot - Freeform, ao3 deleted some of my tags, be warned if you dont like indepth character death ((wilbur dead L_)), honestly I did this at one point as a drabble write???, injuries, killza, less comfort, letssssss get this bread, mean to me, sorry :shrug: DAOWDOKWKO, uhhhh what else???</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:33:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28348113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlyembers/pseuds/ghostlyembers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>((Title = Jubilee Line - Wilbur Soot)) A rewrite of the events of Nov. 16th!! Be warned of the tags. Hope ya like it :D</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dream Team - Relationship, No Romantic Relationship(s), platonic only, sleepy boys inc - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An End to a World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A shaky breath.</p><p>  He started his thoughts as he stared up at the stage, his hands laced together tightly and his pale face pulled in a rough smile as he listened to the loud chatter around him. It sounded so deafening, like static or a rushing heartbeat in his ears but, he needed to get away from everyone. Everything. </p><p> </p><p>It was time. It was finally time he fucking ended this. </p><p> </p><p>Wilbur finally could fucking end it, everything would be better now and everyone would live happily ever after... dead. He didn’t want to do this. God, he never wanted to even THINK like this and perform his next actions and it made him almost physically ill to even agree to this plan with Techno. He could almost hear Techno’s voice in his ears, ringing like clashing metal as he proposed the deal, it was more peer pressure that he fucking gave in. It was so stupid of him. So stupid-- so foolish. What would Philza think? What would Tommy think of him?<br/>
An ill smile was on his face as he thought about Tommy and Philza. His younger brother and his dear, beloved father.. What would they think of him? It was almost like he could envision the expressions, the betrayed and pained emotions on both of their faces as he finally pressed that button. The way he could just smell the gunpowder in the air, the lovely sounds of the TNT exploding, leaving him almost deaf and numb in the ears. </p><p>   His eyes drifted to Techno, who was looking right at him whilst he was in his daydream and he felt himself physically grow nervous and his head ached as he received the nod of approval from Techno. He turned his head slowly forwards and his joints soon creaked as he moved among the crowd steadily, beginning his exit. Wilbur knew what was about to happen now, and so he dismissed himself quickly from the crowning of Tubbo’s presidency, despite how dearly he wanted to stay. </p><p> </p><p>- - - </p><p> </p><p> Wilbur was in a delusional mumble to himself as he reached from his inventory, yanking the pickaxe free. His ill-sent eyes stared at it, and then the stone as he mumbled a few more times. He then yanked the pickaxe up by it’s handle and began to mine at the stone until a soft plop sounded a few times, and he breathed the air of the room that smelt of gunpowder… and depression.<br/>
His shoes scuffed against the stone, his hand resting on the stone as he breathed hollowly, the lights casting a shadow on his eyes as he stood in the room he stood so many times. Right in front of this button. Right here… every single goddamn time. </p><p> </p><p>“So many…” A shaky giggle left his chest, “so many times….” </p><p> </p><p>He had forgotten his thoughts were only secluded to his sick mindset, but he paid no mind to them anymore as he slugged his body right into the seat, the wood creaking under his weight. His hands itched to press the button, rubbing them tightly together in some.. Soft attempt to warm himself up. God, he was freezing. He was so cold, again. Every single time Wilbur thought he was getting warmer, his hope would be crushed by some horrible event coming up.. And then, he was cold again. He almost thought he could see his breath when he exhaled, but it must have been an illusion of his mind. His sick, cold and delusional mind. </p><p>His hand inched forwards- - -</p><p>.<br/>
. .<br/>
. . .<br/>
. .<br/>
.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” </p><p> A voice pierced the air, a semi-neutral tone but such a welcoming voice and such a fatherly voice. Like being held by a parent after getting injured, but being scolded for not listening to them. It was such a nice voice… it was unfortunate Wilbur recognized that voice right away and god, his body shook when he heard it. His breath hitched and his paranoid eyes immediately searched the room, his hand clenching into a fist as he stared everywhere. It couldn’t be-- it couldn’t fucking be. How the fuck did Philza get in contact with him??? How was he talking to Wilbur? He had so many fucking questions--- but he started with the simple ones first. </p><p>  “Phil-” his voice cracked, “Phil?” He asked as though a young child preparing for a scolding, his voice almost timid but, the delusional smile on his face yet still. Wilbur wanted to see Philza, maybe one last time before he did this. Before he fucking blew up everything. Wilbur almost didn’t breathe when he heard the question be repeated but, with more fatherly scolding energy-- “What are you doing?” Philza’s voice repeated, it almost echoing around the room which made Wilbur look around viciously, his neck aching as he spun to look everywhere in the room. </p><p>. . . </p><p>   He breathed in relief when he realized the voice ringing and echoing in the room.. Was merely just his thoughts. How foolish. Wilbur shook softly as he wrung his hands together violently now, his paranoia not understanding how he got so shaken up over a mere audio-like illusion. He was having second thoughts now, he suddenly didn’t want to do this anymore. But, what would he even tell Techno? ‘Sorry to inconvenience our plan, I just heard our father talking to me! Hope you understand, thanks!’ </p><p>God, that sounded so utterly stupid. There was no way Techno would believe that.</p><p>  His eyes danced among the room, staring at it’s carvings and the occasional shadow shift. Did he really want this? His eyes soon found the button once more, staring directly at it to the point he had to blink from the blank staring. His hands shook almost lightly, his knee bouncing ever so slightly before he scoffed at himself, flinging himself up from the chair in a fit of rage. “Why can’t I just--” He angrily mumbled to himself, bringing a hand up to his head, “why can’t I just fucking press it! I can press it- it’s right fucking there.” He sounded enraged at the fact a little hallucination fucked up his thoughts so swiftly.<br/>
It was still, until it wasn’t. Wilbur let out a hitched, angered breath until suddenly he swung his fist towards the wall opposite of the button in a fit of anger, yelling out “FUCK!” in an amount of pain from punching the stone-- and purely because he was angry at himself for being so goddamn foolish. He could fucking do it-- he could fucking end everyone, end everything. End it then, Wilbur,  A thought, mocking him spoke, do it. I dare you. It sounded almost like himself, a mocking of himself. </p><p> </p><p>He hated this. He hated this so much, but it was okay. It was just fine.</p><p> </p><p>He would end it, and everything would be alright. Right?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There'll be more chapters! pog!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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